


Dragon Sister

by rideswraptors



Series: Let Me Steal You [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: F/M, I Tried, OTP: See you all in hell, R plus L equals J, therefore no one can judge me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-01
Updated: 2016-08-01
Packaged: 2018-07-28 16:17:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7647928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rideswraptors/pseuds/rideswraptors
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He couldn’t make himself sit still. If he stopped and stared at the door, he would go mad. So he paced, back and forth, back and forth. </p><p>“You’ll dig a trench if you keep that up.”</p><p>“Bugger off.” </p><p>*Will not make sense if you haven't read the first part*</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dragon Sister

**Author's Note:**

> Good lord, I did my best with this. Italics are Ghost POV.  
> Thanks so much to everyone who read and commented on "Let Me Steal You!" It was a joy and delight hearing from all of you.

Jon paced the length of the corridor, having been forcibly removed from the bedchamber by Davos and Brienne some hours ago.

_He could sense the fear, the smell of sweat and anxiety a foul stench in the air. Red Sister was in pain, her distress palpable. Sister Steel was distraught, wanting to be by her side, wanting to attack what caused her pain. Sister Nymeria stayed her, it would be over soon._

He couldn’t make himself sit still. If he stopped and stared at the door, he would go mad. So he paced, back and forth, back and forth.

 

“You’ll dig a trench if you keep that up.”

 

“Bugger off.”

 

“She is going to be fine. Everything is going to be just fine.” But Arya winced as a breathless shriek of pain resounded from the other side of the door.

 

“I’m going in there.”

 

“Please don’t make me call Brienne, that woman needs some sleep.”

 

“She is in pain!” Jon shouted, jabbing a finger at the door that was closed and barred to him.

 

Arya jumped to her feet, “Which is completely normal! You have got to settle down, Jon! You know how sensitive she is, she will know you’re upset!”

 

“I would be _less_ upset if she would just let me in!”

 

_It was almost time. The moon was near the center of the sky, full and round and lighting the forest paths. The Northern winds heralded the coming. He told Sister Nymeria to howl to the crow, so the creature could take the message to its Master. Crow Brother would want to See._

Sansa’s pained shrieks were soon replaced with squalling crying, and at that point, nothing could keep Jon out of that room. He nearly took the heavy oak door off its hinges, bursting through and pushing past the protesting maids and a very worn-looking Sam with Arya scowling in his wake. He didn’t _care_ about the women or Sam’s exhaustion or propriety. No, what the King in the North wanted was laid up in bed holding a squirming, protesting bundle. Jon rushed to her side, bending to kiss her tired, sweaty face and stroke back her hair.

 

“Are you all right? Are you comfortable? Do you need anything? What—?” Sansa cut his rambling off with a hand to his cheek, easily holding the bundle in the cradle of one arm.

 

“ _Jon_ , you have a daughter,” she reminded him, her eyes twinkling. Sansa was smiling and practically thrumming with energy, and Jon just couldn’t comprehend it. She’d just birthed a baby, she should be exhausted and in pain, wanting to sleep for days. But no, his wife merely beamed at him and held the bundle forward. With a sharp inhalation, Jon moved to sit on the bed, arms accepting the swaddled babe. Her eyes were closed, mouth opening and closing just so. Her skin was thin and soft and bright red, her nose squat and her little chin pointed just like Sansa’s. Plastered to her head were curly tufts of peachy red. The babe was so small in his arms, barely the length of his forearm, so light and easy to hold that it broke her father’s heart.

 

“I’m afraid we shall have to keep trying for your heir, my lord,” Sansa japed tiredly, leaning back against the pillows to watch them. He wanted to laugh at her. Surely that was no great hardship, foolish as it was.

 

“No, love, she’s perfect.”

 

_He could smell the blood. The stench of woman and birth. The salt of their tears. He could feel the blood pumping furiously through Brother Wolf’s veins, the pounding of his heart. Sister Winter howled to the moon, excited and alight with purpose. Dragon Sister had come._

 

The child was meant to be a boy. Bran had told Sansa this. The witch on the Wall had told Daenerys this. They all had foreseen a son. All except Jon. Since the day he had returned to Winterfell, returned home, Jon had been plagued with dreams of a little girl. A little girl with eyes the color of the Winter sky, with bright red curls that bounced and flashed. He’d seen her running and riding, calling out to him with a manic grin and wild giggles. He’d seen her asleep in his arms, crying when she fell and scraped her knees, climbing walls as Bran had once done, dancing to the music of the Northern winds in the courtyard. They told him over and over and over that he would have a son and heir, a boy to rule the Southron kingdom. But all Jon had ever seen was her precious little face. Jon had known, deep in his gut, from the day Sansa had told him her news, that his firstborn would be a daughter. He felt the tears prick at his eyes.

 

Their quiet moment together was interrupted as Arya and Rickon came in the room. Rickon clambered onto the bed to snuggle against Sansa while Arya moved to stand in front of Jon. She winked over at her sister with a smirk and held out her arms.

 

“Let me hold the little scamp,” she muttered, having to tug a little to get the babe away from Jon. The babe fussed, but Arya shushed her, bouncing just so in order to soothe. “So what are we naming him?” Her voice was barely above a whisper to avoid upsetting the babe anymore and it made Jon’s heart crush into itself a little. He couldn’t stop the tears slipping to his cheeks, but he did bat them away with all the dignity he could muster.

 

“ _Her_ name,” Sansa answered around a yawn. Jon turned to look at her, eyes wide with questions. They had discussed boy names only, despite his insistence that they should pick out girl names too. He hadn’t realized she’d even considered it. “Her name is Lyanna.”

 

Jon let out a long, shaky breath and stared at his wife whose hand gently stroked their little brother’s curly head. It was too much, he was too overwhelmed. A little too desperately, he reached for her, planting a lingering kiss to her forehead, and nuzzled into her temple. He wanted to thank her, to fully express his gratitude, but the words simply wouldn’t come.

 

“Here papa,” Arya said gently, “Hold your girl.” She passed Lyanna back into Jon’s arms, and then bent to kiss her puckered brow. The babe whined and fussed, balling her little fists in protest. Jon simply cuddled her close, hoping she was warm enough.

Faintly, the Starks heard the scratching at the door. They heard Gilly open it and squeak in surprise. They heard Sam’s gruff protests. But nothing could prevent the direwolves from joining their Stark siblings in the bed. Nymeria and Ghost came, holding Steel and Winter by the scruffs while Shaggy darted to leap atop of Rickon. Sam burst in protesting that it wasn’t hygienic to have the wolves near the babe, but Arya laughed him off. Ghost, with Winter in his jaws, ambled around to where Jon sat on the bed. He, too, sat still holding his pup and dipped his head at Jon. With that, Jon leaned forward, showing both direwolves his baby girl. Winter whined and scrambled to get closer, until Ghost, with an annoyed huff, dropped her unceremoniously onto the bed. With a whimper, the pup put her paws onto Jon’s arm, leaning to look at the babe, and then she bent to lick her little face, making the Starks laugh outright.

 

Soon little Lyanna grew restless, very obviously hungry. So her father passed her back to her very tired mother for a feeding. Instead of leaving her to her privacy, Sansa’s pack swarmed her on the bed. Jon moved to sit behind her cradling her between his legs and arms around her waist. Arya and Rickon cuddled in on the side where they could see the babe’s face, and the direwolves rested at their feet, the pups wrestling and nipping at one another. Except for Winter. Winter curled against Jon’s leg, her little head on his thigh, watching her new mistress feed, oddly fixated. Jon dropped a hand to her head, scratching her baby ears and she licked at him, nuzzling against his touch.

 

They all camped out there, in the lady’s bedchamber, because no one wanted to be the one to tell the others they should leave. Sansa fell asleep quickly, Lyanna resting peacefully on her half-bared chest. But Jon was far too keyed up and nervous, he stayed awake, holding his wife and watching his daughter sleep. Arya and Rickon curled up with the wolves, and Jon didn’t bother asking her what Gendry would think about their sleeping apart. This was the happiest he’d ever been, tucked away with his pack, safe and warm.

 

Visitors came to their solar bright and early, wanting to see the new princess and offer their congratulations. Gendry and Brienne were among the first, and Jon swore he saw the knight tear up a little holding Lyanna in her arms. Then there was Podrick, Davos, and Maeor, each bringing a gift, a little trinket. Davos’ wolf figurine was by far the most handsome, though Sansa said the silver rattle from Maeor was the sweetest. Jon made his excuses and skipped out on his duties in order to spend the day with his family. He wanted to help take care of Lyanna, since Sansa insisted on nursing the babe herself. Gilly teased her, saying she wouldn’t feel the same way about the second one, not once teeth started coming in, but Sansa only rolled her eyes at her friend and Jon was beyond thrilled. Most lords and ladies, especially kings and queens, had very little to do with their children’s daily care. Jon had no desire to be that sort of father. He wanted very much to be like Ned Stark, who spoke and played with his children every day. Who taught them things, wiped their tears, kissed their scrapes, and tucked them into bed at night. Jon wanted to be a father who was remembered fondly, he wanted to know and understand his own children. That Sansa was on the same page pleased him immensely.

 

They were alone again when Sansa put Lyanna down for a nap in her bassinet. Once the babe was out of her arms, she immediately wrapped them around Jon, curling against his side. He urged her to tear her gaze away from their daughter, to get into bed and rest. She agreed, but only if he stayed with her. Jon was in no position to deny her anything, and he certainly didn’t want to, but he did fuss over her comfort. He had extra pillows and furs brought in, bed warmers, a pot of tea, a plate of fruit. A moment did not pass without him asking what he could do for her.

 

“I would like to be there next time,” he murmured, stroking her back when she draped herself over him. Sansa hummed.

 

“Did it bother you so much?”

 

“Not being with you when you were in pain? Not being the first thing my babe sees when they open their eyes? Aye, it bothered me.” She pressed kisses to his neck and shoulder.

 

“I was a little…upset,” she admitted, “But I will try to be more understanding next time….hopefully.”

 

“That is all I ask.” He paused, letting the crackle of the fire and her steady breathing, the thump of her heartbeat lull him to sleep. “Are you—?”

 

“Jon Snow, if you ask me how I am faring one more time, I will banish you to the solar,” she grumbled. The playful nip at his collarbone softened her words, so he mentally scowled and didn’t bother responding. He just held her close and pressed a kiss to her head.

 

*

 

Hundreds and hundreds of leagues away, Bran Stark sat nestled in his pile of furs in the cave they had made home. He closed his eyes, taking in the crow’s message with a wide smile and a warmth in his heart. Oh, how he longed for home, but it wasn’t yet time. Soon. Soon enough Winter would come, and he would be restored to them. His thoughts were disrupted by the jostling at the cave opening, a shuffling of feet and furs.

 

“How was the hunt?” Bran called out, stretching his arms above his head.

 

“Good!” came the sweet reply, “One of these days, Summer might actually be able to keep up with me.” Bran chuckled at Summer’s low rumbling and the bright peal of laughter that followed it. There was a little kerfuffle, obviously the two of them wrestling with one another before Bran heard her quick footfall approach. He didn’t open his eyes even as he felt Meera’s lips cover his own, thorough and loving. When he was about to respond more eagerly, she pulled away and flopped onto the furs next to him.

 

“I saw the crow,” she murmured. “Any news?”

 

Bran hummed, “We have a niece.” She cuddled up against him, smelling of pine and dirt, sweat and Meera. She put an arm around his waist and kissed his shoulder.

 

“That’s wonderful. I’m so happy for them.” She tilted her head back, eyes twinkling and a hopeful smile on her lips, “And when will I get to meet the little princess?” Bran leaned to kiss her again, a firm press.

 

“A while yet. But soon, I promise. Winter is coming.”

 

“You always say that,” she shot back with a roll of her eyes.

 

“And it’s always true.”

 

“I would like a real bed again. And food prepared by someone other than me.”

 

“I help!” he protested weakly. But she pulled a face, making him sheepish. “All right, I should help _more_.” She was looking skeptical, but he could feel the rumbling of the laughter in her chest. Gods, he didn’t know what he would do without her. Jojen’s and Hodor’s deaths had been such a strain, so hard on the cheerful girl who wanted to believe in the good in the world. She had been quiet for weeks, had pulled into herself, pulled away from him. He’d suffered for it, but they came out the other side all the stronger, and Bran couldn’t find it in his heart to regret any of it. Meera was too good and too beautiful for the likes of him, for a cripple who was confined to a cave until Winter came. He could offer her very little, not wealth or safety or even simple explanations, and yet she stayed. Yet, she loved him fiercely. He allowed himself to stare at her as she chattered about everything she missed about living in a house, about everything she wanted him to show her at Winterfell. All of the places he’d mentioned to her in his reminiscing, all of the sights and the sounds he loved best. She wanted to see Rickon again, get to know his sisters, meet the legendary Jon Snow whom he’d held up to her as the best of the Starks. She wanted to find a blacksmith and a carpenter who could work together to make Bran a moving chair, so that they might take walks together. Though he was the one with Sight, Meera had such bright, happy visions of the future. Their future. And he loved her all the more for it.

 

“We’ll be home soon,” he promised softly. “Very soon.”

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> So, I'm very much aware that in the first part I was dead set on Sansa having a boy first. However, I couldn't decide if I wanted Dany to be really barren or not. And yes, that really does affect future fics. So I went with a girl instead and let Jon have this one. (My HC is that Jon Snow really, really wants a daughter. Do not ask me why.)
> 
> Also. A question has been posed about my having a Jonsa playlist. I actually plot these things out while driving (since I sometimes drive an hour or two a day), so I absolutely have a Jonsa and a Sansa Stark playlist. There are more than what I have listed, but I don't really have access to that info at the moment.  
> Jonsa  
> Warm Water-Banks  
> Coming Down-Halsey  
> Compass- Zella Day  
> Disarm- The Civil Wars  
> Love Drought- Beyoncé  
> Nitesky- Robot Koch  
> True Believer- Spirit Animal  
> Unsteady- X Ambassadors  
> Waiting Game- Banks  
> Who Did That to You? - Django Unchained Soundtrack  
> Without You- Breaking Benjamin  
> Young God- Halsey  
> All My Days- Alexi Murdoch  
> Trying- Lifehouse  
> My Love-Sia  
> The High Road- Broken Bells  
> Every Night- Imagine Dragons  
> The Way I Am- Ingrid Michaelson
> 
> Sansa  
> Control-Halsey  
> Sit Still, Look Pretty- Daya  
> Biting Down-Lorde  
> Castle-Halsey  
> Daddy Lessons-Beyoncé  
> Every Little Bit-Patty Griffin  
> Foreigner’s God-Hozier  
> What Lies Beneath- Breaking Benjamin  
> Oh My God- Ida Maria  
> River Lea-Adele  
> What I Did for Love- David Guetta  
> Zombie- The Cranberries  
> It’s Not My Time- 3 Doors Down
> 
> You can also find me on tumblr! I'm bringonthedeluge


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